“HR Supremo?” Vijay called.
“Yes”, I answered.
“We need you to do something”
I sighed. It’s one thing to come up with a fancy sounding title and force people to address you by that, and it’s another matter altogether when they expect you to DO something.
“What is it Vijay?”
“Our interns are coming in tomorrow for an interview and we need you to sit in the panel.”
I blinked owlishly and my palms started sweating instantly.
“Huh? But, why?”
“Because you’re the HR ‘Supremo’ of SYNAMEN.”
I didn’t care too much for the obvious vocal quotes he dressed ‘Supremo’ with.
Wish my ego hadn’t galloped off on its own when Shreeram had asked me to take care of the HR Department. See? Now I was expected to DO something.
“What do I wear?”
Vijay wasn’t expecting this question I think.
“I mean, do I have to wear a saree or something?” I clarified.
To his credit, he kept his face neutral.
I’ve noticed that men don’t expect questions like this and when confronted with one, they immediately start imitating a statue.
Maybe I should have asked about the interview questions – but at that time, those seemed to be the least of my worries.
Salwar or Saree were the most pressing concern.
I’m like that only.
The next day, clad in a Salwar, I accompany Koman and Vijay to the office upstairs.
The interns have just finished their written test and Vijay is brandishing the rolled-up answer sheets like an Excalibur, as he talks to Koman.
I’m thankful they are involved in serious, technical, man-talk, because that means I can hyperventilate in private.
Thoughts like, ‘Do I smile or frown?’, ‘Do I pretend to take notes?’, ‘Do I speak in English or Tamil?’ and ‘What if an intern asks me something and I don’t know how to answer?’ keep flitting around in my mind.
I’m working myself up to a state where I think I’m going to vomit, when Vijay announces that we’re ready for our first candidate.
Oh help!
The lad enters and Koman and Vijay both turn around to look at me.
Huh?
‘What?’ I ask them telepathically.
They continue to look at me.
Obviously ESP is NOT one of their gifts.
I’m so worked-up, I want to run to the loo and throw-up in peace.
“This is Edel, our HR Head”, Vijay introduces me and nods encouragingly.
I flash – what I desperately hope is a terrifically competent smile - at the intern. “Where are you from?”
He answers.
“Which College are you from?”
He answers.
(‘Oh Lord! I’m running out of questions to ask!’)
“Which is your native place?”
He answers.
(‘Obviously NOT a chatty intern’ I think waspishly)
“Is this your first trip to Chennai?”
He answers.
(‘Sheesh boy! A little help here, please!’)
“Where are you staying?”
He answers.
Koman and Vijay continue to look at me asking inane questions.
Suddenly inspiration strikes.
“What are your hobbies?”
He answers in a couple of words this time.
Huh? That’s IT?
My mind runs dry.
I look intelligently at Vijay and Koman and say, ‘Now they’ll take-over the questioning.”
PHEW!
What follows sounds a lot like Alien-speak to me and I start playing little games to keep myself occupied.
Like, if I squint, Intern becomes ‘Blurry Intern’ or ‘Blurtern’.
If I close one eye and then the next, in quick succession, Vijay and Koman overlap and separate.
I crack my toe knuckles.
I glance at my reflection furtively on the glass of the door and mentally work out various hair-styles.
Mostly I try and stay awake.
Candidate Number 2 enters.
Koman and Vijay look at me.
“Where are you from?” I ask immediately.
To their credit, they don’t groan out loud.
